Page 42 of Dangerous December
She peered through one of the dusty windows and whistled. “You refused my offer of help once before. But I think you’re going to need it.”
She turned back to face them. “Cody, you and Dev can be the spider wranglers, okay?”
Cody looked at Beth uncertainly.
She smiled. “I ran into Frank and Carl out front, and they’re on their way, too. They said they can start taking off the screens so we can wash the windows.”
Beth’s smile was for Cody, but it still warmed places in Dev’s heart that had been empty for a long, long time.
Though dwelling on those kinds of feelings would be dangerous.
After what she’d been through, there was no way she’d ever have any interest in him again. He would do well to remember it.
He shook off his wayward thoughts. “Those two old guys don’t have to do anything. We’re supposed to be helping them, not the other way around.”
She touched his arm lightly, her eyes taking on a wicked gleam. “They are gathering supplies right now, and they look pretty determined. Go ahead and tell them that they’re too old to be doing something like this. I’d like to see a big, tough marine take on Carl and live to tell about it.”
Carl and Frank emerged from the back door of the house with steaming buckets of sudsy water and strode across the lawn to the cottage.
With a nod at Dev, Frank disappeared inside the cottage while Carl waited outside a window for his friend to release the latch.
A faint wash of pink infused Beth’s cheeks as she pulled her hand from Dev’s arm. “I guess I’d better get busy. Where should I start?”
“Anywhere, I guess.”
She walked inside the front door with Cody and Dev at her heels. “Just look at that lovely stone fireplace and these nice hardwood floors. With a good scrubbing and fresh paint, it’s going to be charming.”
She turned slowly, surveying the room. “But that can’t start until everything is cleared out. Can you believe all this stuff in here?”
A collection of old lawn mowers, garden equipment, and musty furniture filled every inch of floor space. All of it was covered with thick dust and grime.
Through the archway leading into the small kitchen, he could see buckets of old motor oil and dented gas cans that emitted a pungent odor.
Dev hauled a rusted garden tiller through the living room and lugged it outside to the curb, then returned for an old-fashioned mower and coils of brittle garden hose.
Beth’s arm brushed his as she moved past with an armload of rakes and shovels. “Oops, sorry.”
She stumbled, caught herself and continued on. Did she feel it too? These flashes from their shared past, when they’d been so aware of each other?
Probably not. She’d made her feelings about himmorethan clear when she’d told him about losing their baby.
On their third trip to the kitchen, a breeze fluttered through the shredded gauze curtains hanging in the windows. Beth braced a hand on the blistered kitchen countertop and sneezed.
Reva appeared at the doorway. “Bless you.”
“Thanks.” Beth looked up at her and smiled. “Did you need something?”
“Not at all. Elana is working at the motel this morning, but the rest of us decided to pitch in.” She glanced around the kitchen. “I think I’ll go change my clothes and bring out a bucket of soap and hot water. I can start cleaning the cabinets as soon as these counters are clear.”
“That’s a nice surprise,” Beth said after Reva disappeared. “The way things are going, we might be able to start painting tomorrow afternoon and get the place furnished by Monday.”
Dev looked at the pile of damaged chairs leaning against a three-legged table at the far end of the kitchen. “Believe me. There isn’t anything usable left.”
“I’ll bet there’s extra furniture in the main house, though. In the attic, if nothing else.”
“Probably a pink flowered couch, or orange and avocado curtains from the seventies.”
She flashed a brief smile. “Just your style.”
